


like real people do

by idlewilder



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, F/F, In Polite Society, all this and heaven too, victorian au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:10:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3565796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idlewilder/pseuds/idlewilder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy Carter is a loyal spy to Queen Victoria, but her work gets a little more complicated when she meets her soulmate in a nobleman's food pantry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is both a Victorian and Soulmate Cartinelli AU, and it's also my first time posting anything I've written. So any feedback you have would be amazing! Enjoy!

Agent Margaret Carter, Peggy to her friends, was dangling from a windowsill. Again. While she loved Her Majesty, the Queen Victoria, it was times like these that she regretted agreeing to spy for her. It was dark, she was in men's clothing, and she was barely holding on to the third floor of a well-to-do nobleman's house. 

Peggy took a deep breath and swung herself so that her foot was adjacent to her fingertips. She used this as leverage and pushed herself through the open window. She'd been hoping for silence and winced at the crashing sound of her body hitting the floor. Peggy prayed that Lord and Lady Underwood hadn't been woken. 

She looked around, trying to orient herself. She appeared to be in some sort of food pantry, which, she had to admit, was unusual for the third floor of a house. However, she didn't have time to dwell on it, for as soon as she stood up, the door opened. 

Peggy found herself face to face with the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Even in the dark, she could see that she had light brown hair that fell in waves, gorgeous skin, and glimmering blue eyes. Peggy swallowed. She should say something, anything, she should- 

She couldn't. She was dumbstruck. 

The woman, who appeared to be some sort of servant or cook, looked her up and down, then spoke with a hint of an American accent, "Well, you aren't a mouse!" 

Peggy's jaw nearly hit the floor. She had long stopped wondering about the soulmate tattoo on the inside of her left wrist. Ages ago, she'd brushed off the words as some sort of cosmic misprint, or attributed them to a potentially insane soulmate, but in this context, the words almost made sense. She'd come here to work for the Queen, not find her soulmate, but it appeared fate had other plans. She just hoped the other girl already knew the words she was about to say. 

"I assure you, I can explain," Peggy whispered, trying to figure if it was more important that she gather intelligence or get to know her apparent true love. 

The girl abruptly slammed the door behind her, and crossed the room in two quick strides. "Alright, darling, I don't doubt it. But I think you had best show me what it says on your wrist." 

Slowly, Peggy rolled up her sleeve. Her tattoo caught the moonlight and revealed the words, "Well, you aren't a mouse!" written in a steady, cursive script. 

The servant did the same, and presented her own wrist with Peggy's last words on it.

Their eyes met, and they stared at each other for a long while, caught up in the significance of the moment. 

"I hate to ask, but-" The girl was interrupted by the barking of dogs. "Shit," she whispered. 

Peggy glanced around for a place to hide. 

"I think we could jump in the dumbwaiter," she stated, and gestured for her soulmate to step inside. 

Her eyebrow creased. "Wait, what? You want me to what?" 

"Just do it, we haven't much time!" In retrospect, Peggy realized that the cook could very well have a reason for being in the food pantry, but she wasn't thinking clearly. She was, well, a little flustered. 

Thankfully, the dumbwaiter was large enough to accommodate both of them, though it was a tight fit.

"I have so many questions!" The girl whispered into Peggy's ear. 

Peggy herself was hyper-aware of every point of contact between their two bodies, was trying to avoid discovery by the house guards, and was attempting to decide if she could abandon her mission. So she said, "Hush, we could get caught!" 

"What's your name? Where are you from? Why are you in men's clothes?" 

The barking and the running footsteps outside the door grew louder. 

"Shh!" Peggy admonished. 

"But- why did you climb through the window? Why are you in the food pantry? Why am I with you in the dumb-"

Peggy interrupted her with a quick kiss on the lips. It was, she reasoned, the only way to silence her companion. And she was right. In fact, the woman went so completely quiet that Peggy was left to wonder if she'd worn her knockout lipstick instead of her normal one. 

The door to the pantry creaked open, and Peggy listened as the hushed tones uttered, "There's no one here... can't let the dogs in because the food will distract 'em." 

She breathed a barely audible sigh of relief and waited until she heard the door shut. She managed to open the dumbwaiter door, and hopped out, then offered a hand to help the cook. As she did, she began to answer the questions that had been directed at her. "My name is Peggy, I'm from, here, London, men's clothing makes climbing easier, that's classified, it was the easiest to access, annnnnnd because I wasn't thinking clearly." She took a moment to catch her breath, and looked up at the girl. "Did I get it all?" 

She smiled back, "Yes I believe you did. I'm Angie, it's a pleasure." 

Peggy nodded. "The pleasure is all mine. Look, I didn't get what I came here for-" she had to stop herself from giving it away, because her guard had been dropped completely, "so er..." She stepped to her left to move past Angie, and Angie mirrored her motion. 

"Just one second, English," Angie scolded.

Peggy wanted to object to the nickname, seeing as they were in England and practically everyone was English, but it sounded so cute coming from Angie's lips that she couldn't. "Yes?" She asked, stepping to the right. 

Angie followed her again. "Is all this legal?" 

Peggy bit her lip, placed her hands gently on Angie's shoulders, and spun them so that she was on the side of the door. "That's a complicated question." She slipped out into the hallway and used her forged key to lock the door. "I hate to do this, love," she whispered through the keyhole, "but I promise I'll be right back." 

It didn't take long at all for Peggy to successfully obtain the documents that had been requested by Her Majesty. And she had absolutely no trouble sneaking past the guards.

The trouble began once she made it back to Angie."You can't just sweep a girl off her feet and then lock her in a food pantry!" She exclaimed once Peggy had shut the door behind her. 

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No, darlin', it's my turn. Hello, I'm Angie, I'm just a lowly cook, I'm a nobody, while you, ma'am, have revealed yourself to be my soulmate, stuck me in a dumbwaiter, and wooed me in a mere matter of minutes, so I expect an explanation!"

Peggy turned a bright shade of red. She really did have to go, she was going to be late reporting back. "I honestly can't tell you..." She whispered. 

"At least give me some way of finding you." Angie demanded. 

"I can't, I'm sorry, I- I'll find you." And, uncertain what do to, Peggy just saluted, blew Angie a kiss, and tumbled her way out the window.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy checks in with her agency, and has to put up with Thompson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait a while before writing/posting the next chapter, but I am weak so here you go!

_Well, I've already got her address, and I suppose I could just ask her employers to speak with her someday… No, I need to be unrecognizable to the Underwoods. Or perhaps I could drop in the window again? That wouldn’t work, there's a chance I could run into someone. Perhaps I could leave her a note? Yes, that would be romantic. Maybe a little mysterious. Oh, I don’t know, I could-_

"Carter! Agent Carter!" The sharp sounds of Chief Dooley's voice dragged Peggy back to reality. She snapped to attention and apologized profusely for daydreaming at the meeting. This wasn't like her at all. But she literally could not get Angie (and her lips) out of her mind.

"Save it. You're up. Tell us what you got." He folded his arms and stared at her meaningfully.

She stood up and pulled out the documents she'd stolen. "I obtained these encoded letters from the home of Lord Auden Underwood. He has a regular correspondence with a Miss Thorley... A mistress or an ex-lover, I presume."

There was some chuckling from the other agents. Peggy didn't stop to wonder how many of them had mistresses of their own and she didn't care to know.

"At any rate, once I translated the code, and cut through the romantic ridiculousness, I was able to find evidence of a plot of some sort."

Agent Thompson, one of the ruder lords enlisted in the agency, muttered some disrespectful comment to Agent Krzeminski on his left.

"Sorry, Thompson, I didn't catch that." Peggy arched an eyebrow at him. "Would you care to repeat it for the rest of us?"

He laughed. "Sure thing, Carter. All I said was, you wouldn't find the romance so ridiculous if you quit acting like a gentleman and found yourself one." He chuckled again, evidently amused at his own ill sense of humor.

As the only woman in the Queen's service, she was used to the insults. Though she often found Thompson's comments hurtful, Peggy was almost always able to respond with a cool counter argument and move on. But Angie's face had floated back before her eyes at the mention of romance, and she turned a violent shade of red. _Damn it all to hell_ , Peggy thought to herself, _I’m in love!_ "Ce-certainly, Thompson, though what you know about acting like a gentleman, I'm not entirely sure."

He just smiled and shook his head.

Peggy cleared her throat and glanced down at her documents. After that humiliation, she needed to recover her dignity. She shuffled the papers and looked back up. "Her Majesty was right. Lord Underwood wants her dead."

At this, there was an uproar.

She raised her hands in an attempt to settle the rioting agents. While they had a general disrespect for women, the Queen was, of course, far more important than any other entity. And as her personal agents, rather like modern knights, they felt it was their responsibility to ensure her safety. Peggy, for her part, couldn't disagree. The monarch had personally helped her through the hardest time in her life, and so she counted herself among Victoria's protectors.

The men, of course, ignored Peggy, and continued their incoherent babble. Finally, Dooley shouted above the din. "Oh, just shut it!"

Peggy sat down and the men shut up.

"Thank you, Agent Carter," Dooley nodded at her begrudgingly. "Now, it's great that we have evidence, but I think it's more important that we have a plan."

There seemed to be a general consensus around the table that this was, indeed, more important. Which, of course, left Peggy feeling as though her efforts had been entirely unnecessary. Evidently, they were already planning on acting against Auden, so her proof of his criminality was useless to them.

"Agent Sousa received word of a ball, three days from now, at which Lord and Lady Underwood will be attending. We have reason to suspect Lord Auden will be receiving a package, perhaps a weapon of some sort, on this occasion. I'll need two agents to attend, and watch him like a hawk. If he leaves the room, tail him. If you can intercept the package, do it." He paused and heaved an enormous sigh. "Since it is, in fact, a ball, the attending agents will need to be one male, and one female, and you must dance together."

Another uproar ensued. The complaints were generally about the unfairness of Peggy getting two cases in a row, and she laughed to herself. Not too long ago, she had been entirely ignored within the organization. But after the Queen had seen what she could do, the men started paying attention as well.

"Obviously," Dooley continued, this time oblivious to the upset, "Agent Carter will have to be one of them. I can't see any of the rest of you in gowns. And Agent Thompson will accompany her."

Thompson immediately broke into protests. “I can’t work with her! She’s horrible, and she thinks she’s better than all of us!”

Peggy rolled her eyes toward the heavens. She wasn’t pleased at all to be working with Thompson either, but she felt it would be unprofessional to sling insults his way. Instead, she said, “Chief Dooley, most everyone knows that Thompson and I don’t work well together. Is there anyone else you can send?”

Dooley shook his head, a sarcastic smile on his face. "I was going to ask Sousa, but..." He trailed off, cracking a grin, "We all know he can't dance." Agent Daniel Sousa was a wonderful man who was often ridiculed for his missing leg. He was an excellent agent, but like Peggy, earned very little respect from their coworkers.

The boys laughed at Dooley's poor attempt at humor, Daniel ducked his head, and Peggy sighed.

"Hey Carter!" Agent Thompson called from down the table, "You better not step on my toes, yeah?" He and Krzeminski burst into laughter again, thinking themselves clever, Peggy suspected.

She sighed again. The ball was already looking like something to be dreaded. She could hardly stand Thompson's company for the hour meeting, how was she going to last the evening? And dance with him? Dear Lord, it was most certainly going to be a long night, wasn't it?

"Sorry you got stuck with that asshat," Agent Sousa muttered to Peggy.

She smiled halfheartedly and whispered, "And I'm sorry Chief Dooley underestimated your dancing capabilities."

He chuckled and return the smile, though his was perhaps more enthusiastic.

Peggy's thoughts soon wandered back to happier things, like the sparkle in Angie's eyes, and she stopped paying attention to her surroundings. But perhaps she should have been, because with the horrifying sound of a loud explosion, the ceiling collapsed around the agents.   
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the explosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a little longer, I found that in order to end this chapter I actually had to do some plotting! Please comment and enjoy!

After the impact, Peggy immediately snapped into action. There was rubble everywhere, they were bodies on the ground, and the air was filled with dust from the explosion. Her thoughts flew a million kilometers an hour as she tried to figure out the source of the explosion, determine whether her fellow agents were injured, and assess the situation for further danger. But when she started counting the people in the room, she noticed there were actually more than the usual number. Which had to mean that they'd fallen from upstairs! And upstairs was- oh. Of course.

The pieces clicked into Peggy's brain and she let out a relieved laugh. "Howard?" She called out, knowing that her friend in Steam Powered Engineering upstairs had caused the explosion.

A disgruntled shape a few paces away began to shake with laughter. "Hello, Peggy, you look gorgeous today!" Howard Stark said nonchalantly, as though he hadn't just blown the ceiling to bits, and acting like Peggy were wearing a ball gown and not trousers. He stood up and brushed himself off, grinning.

Peggy did her best to give him a disappointed glare, but no one was hurt, and, well, it was _Howard_ , so she chuckled again. "I cannot believe you! I thought you had a field for testing explosives!"

"Look, Pegs, I swear this one wasn't my fault. And even if it was, I wouldn't apologize. Did you see how well that worked?" He stretched out his arms and basked in the glory of a working invention.

The other agents were starting to recover, and none of them looked at all pleased at the appearance of Howard.

"STARK!" Chief Dooley bellowed, marching over with eyes of fury.

Howard snapped to attention and saluted Dooley with every drop of sarcasm he could muster. He turned to Peggy and winked. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh again or give him her best eyeroll.

“You gonna pay for these damages?” Dooley asked, not at all amused by his performance.

“Hey, you might have lost your ceiling, but I lost my floor! Take a minute to think about which of us has it worse?”

“And why is that?”

“Well,” Howard began, preparing some long winded tale about how, precisely, the explosion was not his fault.

“Nope.” Dooley shook his head. “Don’t want to hear it. Just fix this mess.” He walked off to confer with Thompson angrily, leaving Howard and Peggy to themselves again.

"Howard," Peggy began after a near awkward silence, "I, erm, have some exciting news."

"Oh yeah?" He arched an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"I found my soulmate," she whispered.

Howard clapped her on the back in a very ungentlemanly fashion. "Nice going, Pegs! Who's the lucky guy?"

"Actually,” she lowered her voice again, “her name is Angie."

"Ohhhh." Howard studied her for a moment, then sighed. "Be careful, kid.”

Peggy tilted her head at him, confused. “How do you mean?”

“Look, you know, it’s just, a bit unusual, is all.”

"Oh." Peggy swallowed. "To be perfectly honest, I hadn't even- I mean, I wasn't thinking about-"

"You know what, forget I said anything, okay?" He shook his head. "You two will be great together."

Peggy nodded, but she wasn't really listening. She was panicking, because, for once, Howard was right. Angie had just been so accepting of their affections, and she had felt so strongly so quickly, that she didn't even have time to think about the consequences. Which wasn’t like her in the least. This was, well, positively scandalous! Two women, in a relationship! Soulmates! Oh dear heavens, what had she gotten herself into?

"Oh, I almost forgot," Howard continued, not noticing her distraction. "I made you a little something."

"Hmm?" Peggy asked, looking back up at him.

He pulled a delicate looking bracelet out of his pocket, and dangled it before her eyes.

Peggy was flattered, naturally, but she was also immediately suspicious. With Howard, nothing was exactly what it looked liked. "So what does it do?" She asked pointedly, studying the accessory carefully.

Howard let a slow smile creep across his face. He tugged on one of the chains, and as if by magic the pieces rearranged themselves into the shape of small gun. “It’s a tranquilizer, powered by magnetics. It should go nicely with the knockout hairpin darts I gave you a few months back. You still got those?”

She nodded. While Howard was generally only interested in himself, he made an exception for Peggy. They were like family to each other, and he felt he owed her after she had saved his life on multiple occasions. “Thank you,” she said softly, knowing she could use this at the ball if she needed to.

“I wanted to keep this one,” he said, brushing off her gratitude, “but Jarvis insisted that the bracelet would work better for a lady.” He pushed a button on the side, which collapsed the dart gun back into a bracelet, then passed it to Peggy.

She smiled as she put it on, making a mental note to thank Howard’s butler the next time they crossed paths.

Dooley looked up from his conversation with Thompson and yelled, “All agents dismissed. Thompson, Carter, I’ll want a full report after the ball.”

“Yes, sir,” Peggy called, then turned back to Howard. “Well, have a lovely morning!”

“You too.” He nodded, and walked her to the door. “You sure you don’t want me to walk you home?”

She pulled her hat down over her hair and buttoned her coat. The sun was only just starting to rise, and with any luck, she would still be mistaken for a man. “Not on this particular day, Howard.” Without waiting for his response, she strode out the door.

As Peggy walked down the street, she felt her mind start to spin. She needed to calm down, needed to focus. Not only did she have to prepare herself for the ball in three days time, she also had to figure out how to find Angie again- and a way for the two of them to be happy together.

Peggy also wanted to take another look at the letters. She had decoded them on her way over to the agency, and had only looked for clues that pointed to Auden's plot. Once she'd found her evidence, she'd stopped reading.  Which wasn't like her at all, but she had been entirely distracted. She still was, but that didn't mean she couldn't try them again for more information.

She pulled the letters out of her pocket and glanced down at one she'd only skimmed,

_My darling, you know that we will meet again soon. And when we do, I have such plans..._

Peggy tried her best not to be disgusted, but she couldn't help feeling terrible for Auden's wife.

_It will be our job, I think, to chose an agent to convert. It is, after all, the only way we can get to Her Majesty. But we should choose carefully and make sure that they will not fail in this task._

She literally could not believe her eyes. How had she missed that? It took everything Peggy had not to run back to the agency, but slowly she realized it was best to figure this out on her own.

An "agent to convert" could only mean one thing. They were planning on convincing an agent to kill the Queen. What if... No... Yes!

Peggy could be that agent, she could pretend to be convinced, and then turn on the pair at the last minute. She smiled to herself. Maybe she could even do it at the ball. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way to the ball...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is super important to me so I would love to hear what you guys think!

"One-two-three, one-two-three," Peggy whispered, dancing around her room. As she moved across the floor, she caught a glance of her reflection in the tall attic mirror. Ugh. While Peggy considered herself a woman of style, she was too often confined by the fashion of the day. With petticoats, corsets, crinolines, and all the other ridiculous items, she was surprised that she was able to breathe, let alone dance. But she did love her dress. It was near crimson in color, with layers of ruffles cascading past her ankles, and a red leather top cinched at the waist, barely below its plunging neckline. On her left wrist, she wore her deadly new bracelet, and holding up her extravagant hairstyle was the tranquilizer darts she could use as ammunition, should she need the gun.

Peggy hadn't attended a ball in years, which was an unheard of scandal for a lady at her age. But she had sorrow soaked memories surrounding dance, and so had avoided them as recreation. Besides, a working woman, unmarried, and living in her cousin's attic was scandal enough, what was a little more? Peggy knew her value, and so didn’t concern herself with the opinions of others.

“Peggy!” Her cousin, Charles, called out. “There’s a gentleman here to see you!”

 _That would be Thompson_ , she thought to herself, and descended the ladder out of the attic, as gracefully as she possibly could. Which is to say, not gracefully at all.

Her cousin, his wife, and Thompson stood waiting for her at the door. She said her hellos to her fellow agent and her goodbyes to her Charles and Lydia, then strode out, down the steps and straight into the carriage.

Agent Jack Thompson soon followed, muttered something to the driver, and plopped himself on the bench across from her as they pulled away.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Thompson cleared his throat. "You look... nice."

Peggy looked up, surprised. She recognized the extreme effort it took him to pay a compliment, and so she allowed him a small smile. "Thank you."

He nodded and shifted around on the bench, trying to make himself more comfortable. "Yeah."

Peggy crossed her ankles and glanced out the window. Thompson, she'd noted, looked no different than usual, but his suit was perhaps a little newer. At least he'd tried.

The silence stretched on, hoofbeats pounding against pavement, wheels crunching against gravel. Perhaps Agent Thompson was uncomfortable with the lack of conversation, but Agent Carter certainly was not. It gave her time to mull over her ideas and how exactly she would present herself to Lord Underwood. And his mistress, Miss Thorley, should she happen to be in attendance. Peggy supposed that she would have to be unassuming and not too obvious about her intentions. Really, her best course of action would be to accidentally run into them enough times to catch their attention. It wasn't her best, as plans went, but the past three days had been busy: with paperwork, little assignments, and, well, thoughts of a certain cook.

"So. Carter." Thompson shifted about once more and actually tried to meet her eyes.

Peggy turned back from the window and stared at him head on.

"This evening? We, uh, we should have a plan.”

Peggy nodded, and in an attempt to stay civil, she said, “I would love to hear any ideas you have, Agent Thompson.”

He looked a bit surprised, but nodded his thanks. “The best way for us to go into this is as courting couple. We can say that I’ve your parents blessing-”

Here, Peggy had to interrupt. “I’m sorry, Thompson, but my parents passed away some years ago.”

“Oh,” he said softly. “Well I’m sorry to hear it.”

“Thank you.” Silence fell again. Peggy was well aware that Thompson was making a genuine effort to have the mission run smoothly. They knew that if they bickered like children, the mission could be compromised. It was just a change from what they were used to, and on top of that, Peggy guessed that Thompson was having trouble treating her as an equal. She knew he didn’t see her that way. “Please continue,” she told him, when he made no move to finish his thought.

“Oh. Right. Well, we can just say I’ve been courting you for a few weeks, so that way our reputations remain intact while we dance together, seeing as we’re going to have act normal most of the night.”

“That’s an excellent idea. But aren’t you worried that my reputation will tarnish yours?” Peggy inquired, a slight smile dancing across her lips.

"I, uh, hadn't really considered that, no." He shook his head. "You're not bad, Agent Carter, you're just a woman trying to do a man's job. I wouldn't mind people thinking we were together, not really."

All Peggy could do was laugh. And this, of course, was to prevent her temper from exploding outwards. At every turn, she was met with obstacles. Her gender was confining, both literally and figuratively. In dress, she was trapped by a corset, and in life, she was trapped by what society deemed appropriate. She couldn't work, she couldn't walk by herself, she couldn't have opinions on anything of consequence, and heavens forbid she be able to take care of herself. Despite this, Peggy valued her femininity; she wasn't asking to be a man, she just wanted the respect and freedom that accompanied the title.

"I believe that is what's known as a backhanded compliment, Agent Thompson. However, you'll find that I haven't failed so far, so perhaps this job should be made available to more females." Peggy held his gaze, completely sincere in tone and intent.

All he could do was shake his head and sigh, unable or unwilling to continue their debate.

Peggy turned her attention back out the window and watched the streets pass by. The houses grew progressively more opulent as they grew closer and closer to their destination. They were headed to the home of the Galison family. It hadn't been too difficult at all to obtain an invitation, seeing as Dooley was their oldest son's godfather. He'd simply mentioned that he knew two nobles looking to be seen in public together, and they were more than happy to provide the venue.

All day, and most of the carriage ride, Peggy had been struggling with her memories. Her ex-fiancé, their whirlwind romance, and his promised dance all threatened to take over the evening. Peggy had to keep reminding herself that she wasn't here for the dancing, she was here for the job. But dancing was part of the job, and she just prayed she could keep it together without breaking down in tears.

The carriage slowed to a stop, and the driver opened the door.

“Ready?” Thompson asked, stepping out and offering his hand.

“I believe so,” Peggy answered, taking his hand and joining him on the sidewalk. “Are you?”

“I think so. Let’s do this.” He offered his arm, she took it, and together, they walked up the steps to the ball. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ball! Finally! Sorry this took so long!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the song that inspired this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JpXlliAn2I

"He's still not here," Agent Thompson mumbled into Agent Carter's ear as he spun them around on the dance floor.

"Bloody hell," was her only response, a smile still plastered onto her face.

The evening was three hours in and showing no signs of slowing. Peggy's feet were beginning to kill her, and the stink of Thompson's sweat was becoming harder and harder to bear. However, she had to admit, he wasn't a bad agent, or a bad dancer. He was just a ridiculous man.

Just then, Lady Underwood crossed the threshold. She had no man on her arm, and her dress was absolutely unconventional. It was beige and black in color, with an almost sinister side ruffle. And, she didn't appear to be wearing a corset at all. She walked with a confidence that Peggy rarely saw in women of society, and her curled blonde hair was done up delicately, almost a stark contrast to her stride.

"Perhaps we should dance closer to the entrance?" Peggy suggested to her colleague, and for once, he obliged without a word.

"... which is a just terrible pity, isn't it?" Lady Dorothy Underwood was saying to Lady Melinda Galison as they grew closer.

"It is! Well, I hope he's recovered by the next one. Do tell him we miss his company!" Lady Galison answered.

"Oh certainly, I will."

Peggy and Thompson exchanged a look. Lord Underwood was ill, he wasn't in attendance, and that meant they had just wasted the last three hours waiting for him.

Thompson dropped his arms away from their dance frame. "Well," he sighed, "that's that then."

Peggy nodded slowly, doing the same. "Yes, I suppose it is. Do enjoy the rest of your evening, Jack. I'm off to find food."

"You too, Peggy."

Her stomach had been growling for the better part of an hour, and the circuit of their dancing hadn't coincided with the circuits of any food bearing servants. So, she decided to head to the kitchens herself. They were a floor down from the ballroom, and she found them quite easily.

She opened the door far too quickly and stopped dead in her tracks. All of the air rushed out of her lungs and she just stood there in awe.

"Angie?" She whispered, shocked to see her soulmate working here. She had a near permanent picture of her at the Underwood establishment, so she was thrown off just a bit. But despite this, and even in her uniform, Peggy found that Angie was still gorgeous, shimmering, stunning.

Angie took an uncertain step toward Peggy. "Well, English, I certainly didn't expect to see you here."

Peggy was still stuck in the doorway, her mind scrambling to form a response, a valid reason for bailing on Angie and leaving her behind.

“Nothing to say, huh?” Angie shook her head and returned to stirring a pot of soup.

"I'm so sorry," Peggy whispered. "I shouldn't have left you, I should have explained, but things are very complicated right now and I am very confused and-"

Angie added a spice or two, and stirred the pot again. Her expression didn’t change.

“Angie...” This time, it was Peggy who walked closer to Angie.

“Look, English,” Angie pulled the spoon out and began gesturing with it. “I explained this to you already. I’m not the kinda girl that gets good things. I’m the girl that works for the people that get the good things. So I wasn’t expecting to see you again, simply because you’re a good thing, and-” with one particularly vehement motion, the spoon struck Peggy square on the cheek with a loud “thwap!”

Angie's expression morphed from one of anger to one of complete shock and she immediately started apologizing.

Peggy, after a brief pause in which she determined that she was not, in fact, permanently damaged by the spoon, could only burst out laughing.  

And Angie, after witnessing this herself, soon joined Peggy in a fit of giggles.

After they’d calmed a bit, Angie said, “I’m sorry your face got in way of my spoon, it’s just a risk you have to take, dating a girl with Italian blood.” Very quickly, Angie realized what she’d said, and covered her mouth with her hands. The spoon landed on the floor with a clatter, and a silence followed.

“I do hope you don’t intend to resume stirring with that spoon. It has been through quite a lot this evening.”

Angie dropped her hands, revealing a small smile. Her eyes met Peggy’s and she sighed. “Look, I just...I've never felt like this about anyone. And when you left, I was hurt, I guess, and lonely. Which, yeah, I know it's a bit silly, since I’d only just met you, and I didn’t even have time to really learn anything about you, or really even know you enough to miss you, but what I do know is that you're the most beautiful person on this planet and I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have you as my destiny."

All Peggy was capable of doing in that moment was to wrap her arms around Angie and to hug her tightly. She took a moment to enjoy their closeness and then stepped away, taking a deep breath. She didn't want to ruin the moment, but with a heavy heart, she whispered, "Angie, the more you know about me and what I do, the more danger you'll be in."

The cook nodded, a sad smile on her face. "I figured you'd say somethin' like that."

They both fell silent for a moment, unable to tear their eyes away from each other.

Peggy could, quite literally, hear her own pulse. She felt as though, the night they'd met, Angie had somehow taken hold of her heart, and hadn't let go since. And now, to stand in front of her, to be with her again, oh, it was pure torture.

At the same time, they both realized how long they'd been staring at each other.

"We should-"

"Perhaps it would be-"

They laughed again.

"Hey, Hannigan! I'm taking my break!" Angie called out, then motioned for Peggy to follow, abandoning her soup to Hannigan's care.

"So, what brings you to this shindig? Or is that classified too?" Angie asked, leading her past the ovens and into the gardens out back.

"Well," Peggy began, "I was here to find out more about your employer. But the _reason_ for that is classified."

Angie nodded. "Got it."

"What about you? I was under the mistaken impression that you worked for the Underwood residence full-time," Peggy asked, noticing how Angie's eyes caught the moonlight in an ethereal way.

"Lots of cooks get, I dunno, loaned out, if you will, for functions like this one. Since the guests don't need us at home, they're okay if we're working the party."

Peggy nodded back. It made sense. But she wouldn't know, as she and her cousin had never hired servants, nor had her parents when she was small. It was unorthodox, she knew, but most things about her life were.

They could hear clapping from the ballroom as the song ended and the guests caught their breath.

"You dance much, English?" Angie asked, glancing up at the window.

"No, not, not since..." She trailed off, wondering if she wanted to burden her future love with the story of her past.

Angie's eyes found their way back to Peggy's. She didn't ask, didn't pester Peggy for information, simply gazed at her and waited.

Peggy swallowed, her mind made up. "I was betrothed to a man by the name of Steve Rogers. He was a hero." She closed her eyes, picturing his face, his smile. "He promised me we would dance to-"

The slow, sorrowful notes of the next song began to float through the window.

Peggy's eyes flew open with a sudden realization. "He promised we would dance to this song, to Schubert's Serenade, when he'd landed his plane, but, Angie, it never landed. It crashed."

Angie reached out and wiped a stray tear from Peggy's cheek. "So you haven't danced since then, Peggy?" She asked softly. "Never got to waltz to this song?"

Peggy shook her head.

"Would you give me honor of having this dance, then?"

Peggy bit her lip, and then nodded.

Slowly, carefully, as though she were dealing with a glass doll, Angie moved one hand to Peggy's waist, and let the other stay open for Peggy to grasp.

Peggy responded by taking the offered hand, and completed the hold by placing her other hand on Angie's shoulder. Even though Angie was shorter, she took the lead, and Peggy found that she didn't mind at all.

Angie held her steadily, and looked up. "Ready, English?"

"Yes," Peggy whispered back, her brown eyes locking onto Angie's blue ones.

As the main theme of the song began to play, the two women waltzed around the gardens. Peggy was surprised to find that Angie was an excellent dancer. She moved with grace and carried herself as though she were in the finest of clothing, not merely servant's garb.

The tears were still falling down Peggy's cheeks, but to her, they were a blessing. She was given a chance to truly grieve Steve, to let him go in a way that she never had before.

The song drew to a close, so Peggy and Angie respectfully curtsied to one another.

"Thank you," Peggy nodded at Angie, her words falling softly onto the cool night air.

"No problem. And hey, if you need anything, ever, you know, a dance, how Lord Underwood spends his Saturday evenings, some dirt on who Lady Underwood writes to, cuz I know you're looking into them..."

Peggy had been about to thank Angie again, and respectfully decline her offer. But something Angie had said caught her attention. "Hang on, did you say _Lady_ Underwood has been communicating with-"

The sound of a coquettish giggle, accompanied by a man's deep chuckle interrupted her train of thought completely.

"Looks like we're not the only ones tryna escape the crowds tonight," Angie mumbled, rolling her eyes.

Peggy held up a finger. The chuckle had reminded her of Thompson's, and she had to take a moment to decide whether or not she should intervene.

But before she could act, she heard glass shattering over what sounded like Thompson's thick skull. While she had always fantasized about doing something similar herself, against her better judgment she ran towards the sound on the other side of the garden fence. Unfortunately, this meant leaving Angie to watch her disappear once again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie POV! Griffith Girls! Bees?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://s296.photobucket.com/user/writingcello/media/Outfits_zpsvq7bzzbv.jpg.html?sort=3&o=0  
> This was my outfit inspiration for this chapter and the last one.  
> Also I stole some characterization from tumblr user connorswolf- her Cartinelli memes are brilliant

Angela Maria Martinelli was on the verge of tears. Her mind was telling her, _Of course she left, you dimwit, she's got better things to do, like saving the world or something!_ But her heart, well, her heart was being plain stupid. It insisted on loving Peggy. And one thing she'd learned was that loving Peggy meant getting left behind. A lot.

Peggy's exit had left her standing there for quite a while, feeling like some lonely fool who couldn't figure out she wasn't wanted. But the thing was, Peggy seemed to want her. No one had ever looked at Angie the way Peggy did, with her stare that should be banned it was so improper. Then again, no one abandoned Angie as suddenly as Peggy did, either.

Sadly, Angie knew she was gonna forgive her soulmate. She was weak and totally unable to stay mad at the Englishwoman. She just wasn't gonna let her leave alone this time.

Angie dragged herself back to reality and ran to the kitchens, quick as a flash.

"I quit!" She yelled out to the busy workers. "Have a great night!" Without even waiting for an answer, she ran back outside and swung herself over the picket fence. Angie glanced at the crushed glass, then took off running after the two disappearing carriages down the street.

Angie might have absolutely no clue what she getting herself into, but she had no doubt she could follow Peggy and whoever it was Peggy was tailing. She'd always been a good runner, and had seriously perfected the art when she'd first gotten to London. Pickpocketing could do that to a girl.

She watched as the first horses began a left turn, and she nodded to herself at when she would have to follow.

But mostly, though, she was thinking about the ball.

Or really, her dance with Peggy. God, she was a goner.

The woman was a mystery like no other.

Here one minute, gone the next.

Eyes like a goddess, lips like a temptress.

Damn.

Angie shook her head. She had to get her brain on right before she got wherever they were going. Had to get her facts straight. Except Angie didn't really have any facts. All she knew was, Lady Dorothy, or Dottie, as she still insisted on being called, was up to something fishy. And Peggy knew it.

Lord. That meant the leading carriage definitely carried Dottie. Possibly with a man (Angie remembered the chuckle from earlier) and probably with another woman (judging by the kind of mail Dottie received).

Not that Angie had any ground to stand on. Dottie could write romantic letters to whomever she wanted to, that's not what Angie would judge her for. Not when she'd been _that_ type of strange her whole life. And she couldn't really blame her for being disloyal to Lord Underwood, either. That man was, well, there weren't words for the kinda awful he was.

No, what Angie would judge her employer (and old friend) for was harming Peggy. So she was praying to every god she could think of that that wouldn't happen.

She took the turn, and ran a little faster.

If she couldn't catch up with Dottie's horses, maybe she could at least make it to the wonderful woman who'd taken her heart like a bread roll from a baker. That way she'd at least have a tiny bit more information.

And, you know, being in the same space as Peggy's exposed collarbone wouldn't hurt either... _Snap out of it, Martinelli!_

The back of Peggy's carriage was almost in sight. Angie reached out her hand, ran just a little bit faster, stretched just a little bit more-

The humming of a million bees filled the air, and Angie stopped dead in her tracks. She might be falling in love, but no force in the world was powerful enough to push her into the swarm that was _leaving Dottie's carriage._

She couldn't believe it. Lady Dorothy Underwood was sinking low enough to sic a horde of bees on Peggy's horses... and Angie. Who was currently frozen in fear. Bugs. Bugs! Why did it have to be bugs?

Her heart was racing furiously and she almost burst into tears again right then and there. _Run, run, you idiot, turn around and run!_ , her common sense was screaming at her. But her feet were glued to the ground, and all she could do was watch as the swarm surpassed Peggy's cart and engulfed her. She screamed.

It took about thirty seconds for Angie to realize the bees weren't really landing on her, and definitely weren't gonna sting her. It took another thirty seconds for her to figure out that they weren't even real bees.

She swatted at one experimentally, and it hit the ground with a crunch. Though the bees were still buzzing around her, she ducked down to check out the pieces. The nasty little guy had glass eyes, and was made of gears, like a clock. Angie had no clue how they were flying by themselves. Maybe they were auto... Automatons? That was the word, wasn't it? She shivered. Pieces of clockwork should not be able to move through the air on their own. Especially not as bees. It was just creepy. Besides, she had the weirdest feeling that the bugs could see her, which just made the whole thing worse.

But, she figured there wasn't any danger, so she looked up, ready to go right back to her chase and leave that flying junk behind. Unfortunately, the back of Peggy's carriage had completely faded into the distance. Or taken some turn somewhere. _Shit!_

Angie collapsed to the ground, cursing herself under her breath. She had let those stupid little bees get in the way of her and her girl. Her heart was still racing, and she had to catch her breath again.

Once she'd done that, she took a look around. If she was lost, then this was all hopeless. Thank God she wasn't. Very quickly, she realized that she was in the middle of her old stomping grounds.

As a pickpocket, Angie hadn't exactly been a solo act. She'd been a part of a band of thieves called the Griffith Girls, women at the bottom of society trying to work their way up. They'd been led by the ferocious Miriam Fry, a lady with an iron will, determined to see her girls married well. And Angie knew that in this neighborhood, they were all but a whistle away.

Angie stood up, brushed herself off. She had no weapons, no plan, but hey, she knew where she was. And she had her girls.

She put her fingers to her lips and whistled the three notes that would summon any Griffith girl from wherever she might be hiding.

The answering whistle came only moments later, accompanied by three girls leaping from the balconies of nearby houses. They ran to the middle of the street and tackled Angie so quickly she didn't even have time to pick out faces.

Her friends assaulted her with a million questions, still smothering her in their hugs.

"How have you been?"

"Have you found your soulmate yet?"

“How's our girl Dottie?”

“What’s it like having a job?”

“Why the hell were you chasing down a carriage?"

"What were those bugs that flew out of it?”

Angie laughed and wiggled her way out of their grip. "I'm alright, yes, actually, that's a loaded question, you get payed, well, another loaded question, and I think they were… automaton bees? ."

She looked around at the three who'd answered her call.

Gloria had been with the GGs since before Angie, which was saying something, since Angie’d joined up forever ago. Gloria had a knack for hiding food in her clothes; she sewed all these pockets into them and the food just disappeared. She was also crazy weird about cheesy pickup lines. This meant when a girl first joined, Gloria usually tried to seduce them with her hilarity. It never worked, not until Sarah, the second girl who came at Angie's call.

Sarah came from the life that most of the Griffith Girls had tried to avoid. She had been selling herself just to get by, and all of the girls treated her a hell of a lot nicer because of it. But once she met Gloria and heard that stupid pickup line, her eyes lit had up and she’d answered with something equally cheesy. The two girls rolled up their sleeves and practically squealed when they found out they were soulmates. Sarah’s talents tended more towards of the art of distraction, making it easy as pie for the rest of the girls to grab everything they need.

Carol, the last heavensent helper, was kinda like a second-in-command. As far as Angie knew, she was never gonna get married. She didn’t even have a soulmate tattoo, which everyone thought was weird until she explained she just doesn't like romance or anything that comes with it. She was a damn good thief though, and the fastest runner they had.

Gloria put her hands on her hips. “You’re going to have to tell us what’s happening. You called, now we gotta help you.”

Angie nodded. Gloria was right. She sighed, and told them everything that had happened over the past three days (the short version, of course).

“Thank God,” Sarah whispered when she finished. “I thought that was Dottie in that first carriage, but she looks so different now you know? Not even a Griffith Girl anymore, such a lady! Anyway, I thought it was her so we sent Molly after her carriage to figure out that swarm thing.”

Angie nodded, relieved. The girls had special watches that tracked their locations- if Molly was following the carriage, they could follow Molly.

Sarah took off her watch and handed it to Angie. “You know how it works still, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Angie laughed, then thanked her.

Without a word, Carol handed over her pistol.

It was Angie’s old one, and it felt completely natural to have back in her hands. She’d never shot anyone, didn’t plan on it, but it was a comfort knowing she could if she had to.

Gloria reached into a pocket and pulled out an odd looking pair of shoes. They had wheels on the bottom and buckles at the ankle. “Put these on, it’s faster than walking. Might take you a while to get used to, but you’re a quick learner. Mary and Evelyn made them for me, cuz I can’t ever get away fast enough.”

Angie did as she was told, standing shakily on her wheeled feet.  “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Gloria told her. “Now go! Get your girl, save the day!” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dottie does her thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry about the delay! I've had a lot going on, as well as a serious case of writer's block! BUT I have a little story posted from Dottie's perspective (in the show's world) and I'm working on another short one now as well. Please leave comments and let me know what you guys think!!

After leaving Angie, Peggy hopped over the garden fence, and ran to where she heard the crash. Unfortunately, she was just two minutes too late. Thompson had most definitely been there, his wristwatch among the pieces of broken glass. She glanced up in time to see Lady Underwood and another finely dressed woman tossing her fellow agent’s body into the back of a carriage and taking off. As quickly as she possibly could, she hopped in her own vehicle and instructed the driver to follow close on their heels.

She certainly was not trying to be subtle.

Subtlety wasn’t exactly her strong suit. In fact, she would have rather been chasing them on foot, guns blazing.

Because, in all honestly, the carriage ride was absolutely horrid. Peggy’s mind spun in circles, reminding her over and over again that she had failed Thompson by leaving, failed the Queen by overlooking Lady Underwood, and failed Angie by abandoning her. Again.

The Thompson bit was the easiest for her to reconcile with. Even though he been working alongside her, she knew he'd been wanting to get away all night. It had just happened to be Peggy who had spoken up first. Most likely he'd been seduced by one of the two devious women. He was always susceptible to a lady's charm, after all.

But missing Lady Underwood's true nature was quite a lot harder to forgive herself for. She spent every day of her life being second best to men, being underestimated by them. And there she was, underestimating another woman.

And Angie? She couldn't even dwell on that topic for too long without feeling sick. The mournful stare in the cook's eyes was haunting Peggy, distracting her from any hope of coming up with a plan. Her heart hurt as though a giant's fist was squeezing it.

After what felt like hours, her carriage slowed to a stop, which meant Peggy had to focus. She was officially working now, and that meant all of her attention had to be on the task at hand. Work was a priority; she could find time to drown in guilt later.

Carefully, she pulled back the curtain.

They appeared to be in front of a dilapidated hotel. The sign, though faded, read "The Griffith Hotel," in spiraling script. Someone had painted a bright red line across "Hotel" and replaced it with "Girls," the reason behind which Peggy couldn't quite comprehend.

The red haired woman who had been traveling with Lady Underwood and Thompson stepped out of the carriage. Peggy could only assume that this was the Miss Thorley from the letters she'd stolen. Thorley pulled Thompson from his seat, and began dragging him up the path to the hotel door.

But the Lady herself was nowhere to be seen.

Peggy waited in silence for a moment, holding her breath. She was impatient, however, and painfully curious. When Lady Underwood still refused to show her face, Peggy carefully unlocked her door. She eased it open, on full alert. Slowly, she pulled the chain on her bracelet. It morphed into a dart gun, and she loaded it- again, slowly- with one of her hairpins.

Her whole body was filled with tension and apprehension of the most extreme sort as she stepped down the stairs. She was ready to fire at the slightest sight of blonde. But still, none appeared.

As her priority was Thompson's safety, she began creeping along the path, leaving the issue of the missing Lady behind. Her feet made no sound as they touched the bricks, which meant her arrival would not be announced.

Peggy lifted a hand to turn the doorknob, and was immediately startled by a sudden pain at the center of her spine. She whirled around to face Lady Underwood, who has just attempted to stick a dagger in her back. Fortunately for Peggy, her corset had just stopped the tip of the blade from skimming her skin.

She fired her dart gun at the center of the Lady's head.

Dorothy dodged it with ease, and stepped closer, disarming Peggy with one swift motion.

The agent yanked the dagger from her spine and lunged at her opponent.

Suddenly, fists were flying.

Peggy was well trained, sure, but she'd never fought anyone like this.

Lady Underwood exchanged blows as though she were breathing, as though she has been taught how to kill before she took her first step.

Peggy lost the knife fairly quickly, and with that, her only advantage. She parried Lady Underwood's first few punches as fast as they came, but as her opponent spun around preparing for yet another strike, Peggy began to think that without the benefits the knife offered her, she very well might be bested in a fair fight. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than a well-heeled boot came flying towards her face. Then, all went dark.

"I need you to focus, Agent Thompson. Focus on the sound of my voice..." A soft, Russian voice spoke in a soothing tone.

As Peggy awoke, she became more aware of her predicament. Her hands were tied, her mouth was gagged, and she was in a exceedingly uncomfortable chair.

She was careful not to open her eyes, not to give any indication that she was awake. It would be far easier to listen in on the conversation that way.

“You want to be acknowledged ? Yes? Agent Thompson, this recognition will only come when you focus. There are somethings I need you to do.”

Hypnosis. Miss Thorley was hypnotizing Jack, and it sounded like it was working.

“She’s awake.” Lady Underwood’s sharp statement sounded harsh in contrast with her companion’s gentle ones.

“Shhh, darling, I’m trying hold his focus,” Thorley responded quietly.

Peggy opened her eyes cautiously. There certainly wasn’t any point in pretending any longer.

They appeared to be in the lobby of the hotel, judging by the counter and the furniture. Thompson and Thorley were facing each other in large armchairs, and Lady Underwood stood by the door, a gun in her hands. Peggy’s chair was off to the side a bit, away from the action but well within the Lady’s shooting range.

Immediately, Peggy began formulating an escape plan. Her bindings were well tied, but she reckoned she could get her way out of them. The only problem was, she knew that Lady Underwood would most likely shoot her instantly if she moved.

Or she thought she knew.

She couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t been killed yet.

They already had their agent, they already had a way to kill Queen Victoria.

So why keep her alive?

Lady Underwood met Peggy’s eyes with a ferocity and a cold anger that sent shivers down her spine.

Maybe it would be better to gather intelligence for a little.

And if there was a diversion, a distraction of some sort…. then Peggy would attempt her escape.

As sent from the heavens, the one and only Angie Martinelli flew through the door on what looked like wheels. She glanced around the room, set her jaw, and fired the pistol in her hands. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie kicks some ass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, let me know what you guys think!

Angie'd always had awful aim. Naturally, she was going for the head (or was it the heart?) but what she ended up shooting was Dottie Underwood's foot.

Any sane person would have howled in pain. But Angie's old boss just stared. She had this, this cold, slow, burning stare, like she was trying to kill Angie with just a look.

Out of the corner of her eye, Angie saw Peggy, looking totally calm, slowly but surely untying her hands.

Matilda Thorley, the red-haired chick who sometimes showed up at Dottie's in the middle of the night, was frozen in her seat.

The man, the agent, sat lopsided in his armchair, looking a little zoned out and a little mesmerized.

No one moved.

Angie could've cut the tension with a knife, but all she had was a pistol. And firing that hasn't done much good at all. So what did she, the idiot, do?

Fired it again.

It was probably the nerves.

Being in the same room as Peggy Carter did weird things to her brain.

Anyway, this time she didn't even try to aim. The bullet ricocheted off a lamp, and stuck itself in the wall.

The room exploded into action.

Peggy freed herself from her restraints, stood up, picked up her chair, and threw it at Dottie, who caught it.

Miss Thorley jumped up, tackled Angie to the ground, and knocked the pistol from her hands.

Angie, though she might look it, was no fragile flower. You don't get to be a Griffith Girl without picking up a few dirty fighting tricks.

She clocked the other woman right in the jaw, which gave her the upper hand, if only for a moment.

Angie tried to flip herself over, but Thorley pinned her to the ground and kneed her in the gut.

"Bitch," Angie growled, and headbutted her opponent. Her head hurt like hell, but hey, it worked.

Thorley rolled away, groaning and moaning. Angie stood up, scrambled for her gun, and held it pointed at the Russian woman.

"On your feet," she commanded in her best dangerous voice.

Miss Thorley stood up, brushed herself off, and glared a mean Russian glare.

It was only then, standing there like that, that Angie realized just how deep she was sunk in this mess. 

She didn't even know what Dottie and Thorley did (other than kidnap) but she'd done all of this for Peggy. Without question.

Sure, Angie had gotten in (and out) of her share of trouble with the Griffith Girls. But that was just pilfering, just grab the food and run. This was different. She had almost killed a woman, her friend at that, and she could easily kill Thorley now too. This wasn't like her, this was... This was crazy.

Her hand started to shake, so she glanced over to see how Peggy was getting on with Dottie.

Her soul mate had ripped down one of the lobby's curtains and was using it to strangle Dottie.

When the blonde passed out, Peggy let her drop to the floor. She grabbed the lamp from the table, and knocked Thorley out with it.

Peggy glanced up, her eyes meeting Angie's.

Angie felt tears start to trickle down her face, and she wiped them away hastily. She wasn't gonna cry in front of Peggy.

"Oh my," Peggy whispered, "Angie, are you alright?"  
Angie swallowed, and nodded. "I'm just fine, English." She wasn't, of course, but she was going to fake bravery for a least a little while.

Peggy ran over and gently took Angie's face in her hands. She slowly wiped the still falling tears from Angie's cheeks, never breaking eye contact. "I'm so sorry, darling," Peggy whispered. "I'm sorry you had to be a part of this."

Angie leaned the side of her head into Peggy's palm. She took a deep breath and whispered, "I chose to come here, alright? I made that call. But on the way over, there were these automaton bees, and when I got here, I just had no idea... I didn't know..." She couldn't stop the sob that escaped her lips then.

"I thought I was keeping you safe," Peggy told her, leaning her forehead to Angie's. "I thought that the less you knew, the less likely you were to be targeted. Next time, next time, I promise you, I will inform you of every last detail. And I will make sure you never are in a position such as this again."

Angie felt very torn in that moment. There were so many things she wanted to say, and with Peggy's lips a breath away, so many things she wanted to do as well. She couldn't believe Peggy had promised her a next time. The weight of that statement hit Angie like a ton of bricks. This time, Peggy wasn't going to leave her in the dust. And she wanted to thank her. But instead, she whispered, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Pegs."

Angie was pretty sure it wasn't her that started it, but either way, her and Peggy were kissing like there was no tomorrow.

Sure, sure, Angie had kissed a few girls here and there, but nobody kissed like this.

It was a hurricane of a kiss, it was messy, there were tears and madness and desperation, there was hands tangled up in hair and gasping for breath, and then-

Someone coughed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A carriage ride and sleepy Angie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this chapter to @MusicLoveandMagic because JackDaniels has a little mention and I promised I would do that. (the A to Z's of JackDaniels is what made me do it. <3)
> 
> Also. Please read Under the Big Top by @lightning_girl because I beta read for that story and it IS WICKED AWESOME (like yo if you need more Cartinelli AUs, seriously it's great!)
> 
> And once, yet again, I am so sorry for the lateness. This summer, I promise I'll be better about updating. I hope.

It was, of course, Agent Thompson.

"Bollocks," Peggy swore quietly, stepping away from Angie, who swayed, still in shock from the impact of the kiss.

Thompson somehow manage to look both shocked and entirely amused, as though he were horrified, but couldn't stop being an arse for two seconds.

"These ladies are bound to wake up soon, we've got to arrest them, we have to get out of here in case they have back up, we-" Peggy's words fell out of her mouth with hardly any thought to back them up.

"Carter." The man shook his head. "I got no idea what happened here, but I can help if you explain. I am an agent, after all." He grinned an arrogant grin.

Angie snapped herself out of her trance and said, "Hey, English, I can help too. What do you need?"

Peggy looked around, and set them to work. She offered no explanation to Thompson, instead choosing to send him continual threatening glares when he disagreed with her orders.

As she worked, Peggy’s head buzzed continually at the memory of Angie’s lips against hers, but this was really neither the time nor place for such things.

They loaded the women into Peggy's carriage, and made sure they were bound and gagged sufficiently. Thompson sat on their side of the bench, and Angie and Peggy sat opposite him, facing the back of the carriage.

"So." Thompson's unasked question followed his statement like a lonely ghost.

Angie's hand slipped into Peggy's, and she smiled, grateful for the comfort.

"If you have something you'd like to say, Agent Thompson, you might as well say it," Peggy told him with a sigh, already sick of his attitude. He was the one who got himself kidnapped, after all.

"You're Sapphic." It wasn't actually a question, it turned out. It was just an accusation.

Peggy had been ready to say something argumentative, or perhaps a qualification of the statement, when Angie barked a laugh. "You bet your ass."

Thompson grinned back. "Good to know. Seeing as I'm a- I mean, I have a-" He stopped, and swallowed.

Peggy noticed the change in his demeanor, and figured he hadn't actually told anyone about Sousa. It would have been too difficult for him to admit that he was anything but perfect.

And in the eyes of the law, he would be more than imperfect. He would be a criminal.

And so would she.

Peggy swooped in to save him. "His soulmate is another agent, Daniel Sousa," she told Angie with a smile. "They're still coming to terms with it, I believe." Peggy had walked in on them one time, and that was an image she would prefer to have removed from her brain. The two men had stubbornly insisted it wasn’t what it looked like, but Daniel had confided to her that he genuinely cared for Thompson.

Thompson nodded. "He's a good guy. I just- I don't know if- I mean, the whole soulmate thing is kinda sappy and weird."

"I like it," Angie said simply. "It makes sense. Peggy's my girl, and it's nice that there's something out there agrees with me."

Peggy couldn't help the flutter of excitement she felt when Angie called her "my girl." She hadn't been anyone's girl in a very long time.

"I like it as well," Peggy added. "I'd likely be dead or perhaps hypnotized if this wonderful woman wasn't mine."

Thompson rolled his eyes and dropped his head in his hands.

“So…” Angie looked at Peggy with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Exactly how long are you willing to wait before we get married?”

Peggy let out a laugh. “Married? _Married?_ Oh, I dunno, a month or two,” she answered, still joking.

Angie gasped. “A month is far too long.” She turned to Thompson. “How long is it usually, here? Courting’s like what, a week? Two?”

He wrinkled his brow. “Is that how they do it back in the States then?”

Angie shrugged. “I was young when I left and I’m still ignorant to your ways…” She laughed, but Peggy could detect uncertainty in her voice.

Really, they couldn’t get married anyway. And while Peggy loved her (she did feel that she could say that now) she wanted to get to know her, really and truly, before they made any huge decisions about their relationship. She just wasn’t sure Angie felt the same.

After dropping off the prisoners at the infamous Tower of London, and the infamous Thompson at his house, Peggy turned to Angie, a question on her lips.

But Angie beat her to it. “Pegs?” She tilted her head. “I kinda quit my job. And my boss is kinda in jail. Which means I don’t know if… if I’ll be allowed…”

“Allowed back there?”

Angie nodded.

“Look, darling, I- I live in my cousin’s attic. I’m the crazy aunt upstairs to his children… which means any guests I invite are cross-examined, and there isn’t much room anyhow. But. I do have, well, a temporary solution. I suppose.”

Angie looked to Peggy as though she were attempting to suppress the hope on her face.

"My dear friend Howard owes me something like thirty favors.... And he owns several estates, one of which he has repeatedly offered to me. Previously, I'd refused, unwilling to accept his charity. But… Now I have reason to accept the offer."

A gigantic grin broke out across Angie's cheeks.

Peggy told the driver the address, and off they went.

Angie scooted closer to Peggy, and rested her head on her shoulder, closing her eyes.

Peggy held her breath at first, afraid to move and disturb the girl. She wasn’t used to people trusting her so blindly, wasn’t used to feeling this kind of love and knew that she didn’t want to lose it.

She glanced down at Angie, who had almost instantly fallen asleep. The woman’s beauty still had an overpowering effect on Peggy. It was almost as though her heart stopped every time she saw Angie. And it wasn’t just the way she looked, either. Angie’s had the soul of someone who would do anything for the people she loved, and Peggy admired that more than she could put in words.

Peggy hadn’t ever spent much time thinking about who her soulmate would be. A part of her, though, had assumed it would be a man. Especially since she had been so close with Steve (he had found his soulmate, too, he once said, and lost them all too quickly). But Peggy admitted to herself that she had always been attracted to women, too, and honestly that she wasn’t as worried as she should be about the illegality of it all. Surely, surely, there had to be some kind of exception! The tattoos were the truth, so if society didn’t accept them, then it was the society at fault.

Peggy, for the first time, was figuring out that other things might matter to her than saving the world. And it was terrifying.

When they pulled up to Howard’s, Peggy carefully lifted Angie out of the carriage, and slipped in the mansion quietly.

“Pegs?” Angie mumbled, blinking her eyes and looking up at Peggy. “We here yet?”

Peggy chuckled. “Yes, darling, we’re here.”

She set Angie down on the couch, and sat down next to her. Instantly, Angie tipped over, her head landed in Peggy’s lap.

The agent ran her fingers through her soulmate’s hair, feeling like the luckiest woman alive.

“English?” Angie asked, her voice still thick with exhaustion.

“Yes?”

“You know I was joking about the weddin’ thing, right? I mean.. cuz… we can’t do like real people do.”

Peggy titled her head. “We’re quite real, I assure you, Angie.”

“No...no, I know. Just- we can’t be normal. I always knew I wouldn’t be able to get married, but… I thought…”

“What, darling? What did you think?” Peggy knew Angie was falling back to sleep, but she was curious as to where this was going.

“I thought it would easier to give up. I didn’t know I would... care about someone this much.”

“Oh,” Peggy whispered, the exclamation barely falling off of her lips. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
